


declarations of intent and other acronyms

by bleep0bleep



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, Werewolf Conferences & Conventions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2018-06-05
Packaged: 2019-05-18 15:31:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14855417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bleep0bleep/pseuds/bleep0bleep
Summary: Stiles accidentally declares himself Derek's mate after a mixup at a supernatural conference. Whoops.Across the room, Stiles can see the energy shift as Derek walks in. He’s all broad shoulders and soft, gentle smile, looking at ease in a blue v-necked sweater over a crisp collared shirt and dress slacks. He looks a bit nervous, but seems to relax after saying hello to a few people.An elderly lady is pinching his cheeks. Heh. He’s adorable. Stiles loves little moments like these, when he gets to see Derek unguarded, he loves—Stiles immediately pushes the thought to the back of his mind. He can’t afford to wallow in his feelings, not this weekend.





	declarations of intent and other acronyms

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so excited to share this piece written for the [Solstice, a Sterek Charity Zine!](https://sterekzine.tumblr.com/)

****

Stiles eyes the row of shiny plastic nametag covers and the volunteer, an enthusiastic werewolf named Helen, who’s typing up his details. The other people in the lobby are in a mix of business casual, sporting rolling suitcases and amicably chatting with each other.

“First year?” Helen asks pleasantly, handing him a packet.

“Yeah. It’s really…” Stiles does a vague gesture at the crowd.

He’s not sure what he was expecting, but the Western Regional Supernatural Symposium had seemed like such a big deal when Deaton first mentioned it to them. It would be key in building alliances with other packs, learning new strategies on dealing with threats, and gathering resources. Stiles thought it would be terrifying, being in the same room as some of the most formidable packs in the country, but he just walked past a dude who tripped over his own rolly suitcase. Not exactly intimidating.

“Oh, it can be quite overwhelming!” Helen winks. “There are a number of panels that are great for beginners to the supernatural world. There’s a Symposium 101 I strongly suggest for getting your footing.”

Stiles swallows back the laugh and smiles at her instead, nodding. “Thanks.” He wishes Scott was here, who would probably ease right into letting Helen know that they’re a very capable pack in their own right, and he’d be able to do it without insulting her. As is, Scott is back home dealing with the arrival of the Summer Court, and entertaining the Queen of the Fae as she renegotiates the terms of her territory in Beacon Hills.

Deaton had been adamant about having a representative at the Symposium, especially since they’d confirmed ahead of time; backing out would mean weakness, especially since Beacon Hills hasn’t been represented here in a long, long time.

Which is why Stiles is here.

At least he’s not alone.

Across the room, Stiles can see the energy shift as Derek walks in. He’s all broad shoulders and soft, gentle smile, looking at ease in a blue v-necked sweater over a crisp collared shirt and dress slacks. He looks a bit nervous, but seems to relax after saying hello to a few people.

An elderly lady is pinching his cheeks. Heh. He’s adorable. Stiles loves little moments like these, when he gets to see Derek unguarded, he loves—

Stiles immediately pushes the thought to the back of his mind. He can’t afford to wallow in his feelings, not this weekend.

Helen is still talking, explaining logistics. “We’re sharing our space with a few other conferences this weekend; you’ll see the names of the panels listed on each of the rooms are decoys,” she says, handing Stiles a tablet. “Just a few more details to fill out and you’ll be done with your registration,” she says brightly.

The form on the tablet is the usual; name, address, email, phone number and so on, and Stiles fills it out quickly. His stomach is growling; he should finish this and see if Derek wants to check out the buffet.

There are a bunch of drop down options, like size of t-shirt and meal preferences; Stiles doesn’t really care, they already handled all the basics in email, so he just picks things at random and then hands the form back to Helen.

“Have the rest of your pack members already checked in?” she asks, as the printer beeps and a nametag reading “Stiles Stilinski, MTE” falls into the tray.

“Yeah,” Stiles says, plopping it in a plastic cover and looping it around his neck.

_> > wtf does mte mean_

_< < no idea. whats the context _

_> > ehh its probably like the werewolf equivalent of like degrees or something.  hows the queen_

_< < good! I think she wants to take lydia home with her lol_

Stiles closes the thread with Scott and grins when Derek approaches him at the check-in table. “So who was that pinching your cheeks? You know I could see you blush all the way from here.”

“Shut up, I don’t blush,” Derek says. “You ready for dinner?”

Behind them, Helen’s mouth falls open. “Oh! I had no idea, I am so sorry, I didn’t mean any offense.”

“Huh?” Stiles lifts an eyebrow.

“Suggesting Symposium 101 to you, I mean, the Hales have been coming here for ages, a legacy pack really, it’s an honor to meet you, Derek!” Helen jumps up, shaking Derek’s hand. “I hope you and your mate enjoy the conference!”

Derek glances at Stiles, his eyes darting to Stiles’ nametag and then up to Stiles’ face. Stiles can’t parse all the emotions flicking through Derek’s eyes at once, but _panic_ is definitely one of them.

“Derek,” says a stately voice behind them.

“Satomi,” Derek says respectfully, bowing his head.

She regards the two of them, and Stiles freezes. She’s one of the most influential Alphas in the state, and definitely one of the allies Deaton wanted them to make. “Honored to meet you,” Stiles says, hopefully with much less of the kiss-ass tone Helen just used.

“Wonderful to see you back here,” Satomi says to Derek. “And to meet you as well, Stiles.”

“I’m looking forward to your panel,” Stiles says. “I’m excited to learn more about the history of ley lines and how they influence the types of magic in an environment, especially your thoughts on sites of significant intersection. I mean, I’ve seen other sites but the Nemeton really—”

Satomi laughs, a quick amused noise, and her eyes gleam. “You should participate in the roundtable discussion afterwards; I know that many people would love to hear about your expertise in dealing with the Nemeton and how volatile it is.” She turns to Derek, patting his shoulder and glancing back at Stiles.

Stiles only knows her reputation as a cold, efficient and ruthless Alpha, but she seems so nice, the way she’s looking at Derek with fondness.

“I’m happy to see you settled down,” Satomi says, bowing her head slightly to Derek. “May your moons be ever bright.”

Derek bows back at her. “May your days be ever joyful.”

The words hang in the air, heavy and portent, and Stiles repeats it with a smile to Satomi. He doesn’t know all the traditions, but this seems like an important exchange.

Satomi takes Stiles’ hands in her own, squeezing them gently. “I will see you at the reception tonight. Enjoy your afternoon.” She nods at Helen, and then returns to the crowd mingling in the lobby.

Derek relaxes ever so slightly. “We’re going to get settled in,” he says, but it seems like he's speaking more to Helen and the people surrounding them than to Stiles.

“But the buffet! It’s starting soon!”

Derek levels him with a gaze and smiles at two people approaching them. “Excuse us.”

They demur with a somehow knowing smile, and Stiles notices that Derek is standing very close to him. Which is unusual outside of we-almost-died-I’m-gonna-hug-you kind of proximity.

Derek’s arm is hovering behind him, almost like he wants to throw an arm around Stiles, but that would be ridiculous, just like how Stiles is imagining Derek’s hand on his lower back would feel if he moved a bit closer. They walk quickly towards the elevators, and Stiles is already annoyed. He wants to eat, whatever lecture Derek has for him can wait. Plus, that went really well, right? Satomi was excited to meet him too, and she seemed impressed—

Derek jabs the button for the 8th floor on the panel directly behind Stiles, practically pressing him against the wall. Stiles opens his mouth to tease him about how he definitely remembered what floor they were on but he’s met with Derek’s green-gray eyes, fixing on him intently.

He’s close enough to kiss.

Stiles exhales.

Someone is approaching the open elevator doors, and Derek says in a low, dangerous tone, “Get the next one,” stepping even further into Stiles’ space and pressing the button again.

Stiles barely catches a glimpse of the man’s blush as the doors close, and he realizes that it pretty much looks like they deliberately went into the elevators to make out.

The elevator starts to trundle upwards, and Derek taps the MTE on Stiles’ nametag. “Why,” he breathes.

Stiles shrugs. “I filled out the form really quickly, I wasn’t really thinking about it. What’s the big deal?”

“Satomi assumed you were mated to _me,”_ Derek says.

“Oh.” Yeah, that did happen, but Stiles figures they could correct her later if they needed to; plus, he was really excited about that panel.

“Don’t _‘oh’_ me,” Derek says. “You have no idea the position you’ve put us in. If it were anyone else, maybe this situation could be salvageable, but Satomi is not only an old family friend— she’s — she’s—”

“I know, I know,” Stiles says. “I’m not gonna mess up our chances here. That’s why we’re here, right?”

Derek takes a deep breath. “Lying to an Alpha of Satomi’s stature would be unforgivable, you don’t realize that—”

Stiles taps Derek on the chest and winks at him. “It’s fine. She doesn’t have to know it’s a lie, right?”

“Stiles.” Derek bites his lip. “You can’t possibly say you want to…”

Stiles tilts his head, almost casually. “It’s fine.”

“We would have to touch. I need to scent you. We’re lucky we arrived separately and Satomi knows I’ve just spent a week on my own in Oregon helping the Ysstralde pack.”

Stiles nods, his throat suddenly going dry. “Of course.”

It’s not fine. Pretending to be Derek’s mate, looking at him like he’s in love—that wouldn’t be hard to do at all. Touching Derek in this way, having everything he’s ever wanted— while knowing it’s a lie—is going to be both the best and the worst thing Stiles has ever experienced.

Something flashes in Derek’s eyes, and then he’s burying his face in Stiles’ neck, breath warm on Stiles’ skin. It’s not quite a kiss, but it’s maddening, how intimate it is, and Stiles has no idea what to do with his hands, but then Derek’s body seems to fit perfectly against his, the way they’re pressed against each other, and it seems completely natural to just pull Derek into his arms.

The elevator door dings on their floor; there’s a woman waiting outside, and she chuckles at them goodnaturedly.

“Uh, hi,” Stiles says, feeling his cheeks redden.

“Bye,” Derek says, blunt, and takes Stiles’ hand, leading him out of the elevator and down the hall.

Stiles’ heart is pounding so hard he swears he can feel the blood pulsing in his fingers, the way Derek has them interlaced together, and he can’t help but laugh and pretend for a moment that this is real, that they’re really running down a hallway because they can’t wait to be alone.

They go to Stiles’ room, because it’s closer, and Derek’s keycard is trapped in his ridiculously tight pants.

The door shuts, and Derek’s chest is heaving. He’s looking at Stiles with a strange new intensity, and Stiles’ blood is hot and he feels bold with the rush of it, the idea of it. He’s going to regret this when it’s over, and it’s going to be over because it’s all pretend, but damn if he’s not going to enjoy it while it’s happening. “What else do you need, to scent me?” he asks, undoing the top two buttons of his shirt. Skin to skin touch, especially the neck, Stiles remembers from his research. He arches his neck back, turning slightly and pulling his shirt away from his bare skin.

“Can I kiss you?” Derek asks suddenly.

“Yes—”

The word is barely out of his mouth before Derek rushes forward, his mouth hot and wet and immediate. Stiles groans helplessly into the kiss, his hands rising up to cup Derek’s face, to run his fingers through Derek’s beard like he’s always wanted to.

Derek kisses with urgency, like a whirlwind of need and intensity, and Stiles gives back everything into the kiss, the touch, the way he feels about Derek but never has been able to say, years of wondering why Derek left and if it had to do with Stiles, if Derek missed him at all. It feels so right to have him in his arms, like the answer to a question Stiles wondered long ago, that they were always on the precipice of an _almost._

“Derek—”

Derek moves back to his neck as Stiles catches his breath, pressing kisses there, and then he’s back, a gentle kiss to the corner of Stiles’ mouth.

Somehow this makes Stiles tremble more than the heady passionate kiss they started with, and his heart is breaking with the thought of sweet soft kisses that aren’t real.

Stiles places his hands on Derek’s shoulders, tries to steady himself and takes a step back, even though all he wants to do is go back to kissing him, to revel in the moment. But he knows the longer it goes on, the more it’ll hurt when it’s over. Better to do this now, to get it over with.

“I don’t think I can do this, actually. I thought I could but…” Stiles shakes his head, standing up tall. “I can leave early, so we don’t have to pretend. You can say I had to deal with stuff at home—”

“Stiles,” Derek says softly. “I—” he looks so small, so vulnerable and lost, the way his hands fall back down to his sides. His hair is tousled and his lips are red, all swollen and kiss-bitten.

“I don’t want to pretend,” Stiles says, and it leaps off his lips like it’s growing wings. “I would do it, for the sake of the pack and saving face in front of Satomi, but I don’t want to. I want to kiss you and you to know that I want to, and that I— I’ve loved you for a very long time, Derek.”

Derek goes still, his eyes widening, and then he opens his mouth and closes it, at a loss.

“I know it’s not… it’s sudden, and we’ve come so far from where we used to be and I need you to know that this won’t affect the pack, that if you need your space it’ll be fine, and we can be—”

“ _I_ love you,” Derek declares. “You have no idea what seeing that next to your name did to me. I thought that if this was the only time we could be together—”

Stiles laughs then, whether out of relief or joy or both he doesn’t know. “We are so stupid. We’ve wasted so much time.”

Derek leans in close again, and the smile that blooms across his face is a new one, full of hope. “We shouldn’t waste any more, then.”

They’re late to the reception, but no one blames them for that. It’s expected of mates to take time for themselves, after all.

 

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/bleep0bleep) and [tumblr ](bleep0bleep.tumblr.com) if you want to say hi!


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